


Cold Harbour

by SeeThemFlying



Series: Run, Fat Knight, Run Series [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A hint of dom Brienne, AAAAANNNNNNGGGGSSSSTTTT, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Jaime Lannister Needs a Hug, Jaime ruminates on losing his hand while in a relationship with Brienne, Modern AU, Run Fat Knight Run, Smut, They are both their usual uncommunicative selves, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeThemFlying/pseuds/SeeThemFlying
Summary: Brienne loves Jaime. Jaime loves Brienne.Is it enough?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Run, Fat Knight, Run Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180016
Comments: 20
Kudos: 40





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> So, this is a little prequel to "Run, Fat Knight, Run" that I've been mulling on sharing for what feels like forever. I'm searching around for inspiration atm, so I finally decided just to do it. You don't have to have read that fic, as this will lead nicely into it.
> 
> I would like to say a huuuge thanks to mmystique on tumblr for her constant support of this little universe. I hope you enjoy this!

It had been Brienne's idea to get away.

"Won't it be nice?" she had said one night in bed, running her fingers through his chest hair, catching on the curls and pulling gently. "You and me? My dad has a cottage down in Cornwall and we could go there, I'd only have to ask him. I can close the shop for a week, and we can just spend time together without any interruptions. I feel as if we haven't been doing much of that lately. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

He had nodded.

"Yes. I would like that."

He didn't mean _yes,_ not really. Ever since the accident, Jaime had just felt guilty whenever he had spent too much time with his girlfriend. Every time he saw Brienne wince when she picked something up or moved her arm with a careful consideration underlined by pain, Jaime would feel disembowelled. He would remember the dark red lines - half-healed - stretching from her shoulder to the top of her breast, bright and livid against her pale, freckled flesh. Even though every time they went to bed together, he would cover those scars in kisses - _oh wench, wench, I love..._ \- Jaime knew such soothing gestures could never be enough to right the wrong that had put them there.

 _It is my fault,_ he had thought, over and over. _He wanted me. Yet he got her._

"Drink your wine," Brienne had commanded him, as they sat down to watch some TV show that he only endured because she liked it, as it made the corners of her eyes crinkle when she smiled and _he_ liked that. "And take off your prosthetic hand."

Jaime flinched. The hand was relatively new, and he didn't like Brienne bringing it up. Most of the time, he liked to pretend he was still whole.

"Why?"

"You've been fidgeting with it, and it is clearly hurting you. I thought I would rub that cream the doctor gave you into your skin while we watch TV."

"I've got something else you could rub that I might enjoy more," he had said, smiling, half in hope and half as a distraction. "And _you_ would probably enjoy it more too."

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a stern look that was at the same time a tease. "Don't be silly, Jaime. Let me help you."

Although he did not like her touching his stump - it made him feel vulnerable and brought the memories of the car crash back in vivid colour - Jaime tolerated it because he loved her, because he knew that she liked to fuss over him. He sat in silence as Brienne went to retrieve the cream from the bathroom and tried to shape his expression into something that looked like a smile for her when she returned. In spite of his best efforts, it had felt a little strained when she re-entered the room.

"You still haven't taken off your prosthetic," she had said chidingly. "Come on, off with it!"

Jaime had pouted at her as she sat back down, which only caused her to grin in the way he loved so much; crooked and toothy. "I thought I would wait for you to do it. I like it when you touch me."

Their eyes met and Brienne smiled, sunlight.

"You know how to sweet talk me, Mr Lannister," she had said, before taking his prosthetic off and pressing her lips to the ruined flesh. Jaime had tried not to shiver at the touch of her lips - her plump, kissable lips - against the bit of himself that he hated the most.

Jaime had forced a smile on his face as she drew back and reached for the cream. It had not been difficult, as there was nothing more comforting than the gentle press of her fingers against his scarred wrist. He had felt soothed and safe, comforted in the knowledge that she cared for him. Closing his eyes, Jaime had let himself be washed away by the feeling of being touched by the woman he loved. Brienne had a way of making him feel as if she was cradling him in her arms, protecting him from storms, even when she was nowhere near. He had only opened his eyes again when she let out a little hum and asked him a question.

"Now, can I sweet talk you into coming to Cornwall with me?"

Because he loved her, Jaime had agreed, even though the thought of spending an extended period of time alone with Brienne was mildly terrifying. It would leave him exposed to her; to her soft blue eyes and her persuasive hands, and the easy way she could kiss the truth from his traitorous lips. As he was a weak, _weak_ man, after a few days in Cornwall in her company, Jaime knew he would tell her the truth about the accident. He knew. Brienne had a way of turning every word, every touch, and every kiss into a confessional.

But he _couldn't_ tell her the truth about the accident.

He just couldn't.

Their car had been turned into a ball of fire not through sheer accident, but because Jaime was a Lannister and Aerys Targaryen had wanted to _burn them all._ It did not matter that Jaime had left that life behind to live a new one with Brienne. His name condemned him and endangered her all at once. Although Jaime had been able to pull Brienne from the wreckage, she had earned scars from the incident that his kisses could never erase, no matter how much he wanted them to. Her love was magic, capable of uplifting him and making him believe again, while his love was poison, toxic to touch.

It was easier if Brienne believed it was all an accident, a random occurrence in an unexplainable universe.

Maybe then she wouldn't hate him.

"Hey, Sansa!" Brienne had said one night down the phone, while Jaime lingered by the door after she thought he had gone to bed. "Have I woken you up? I'm sorry. I just wanted to talk."

Sansa had replied, but Jaime could not hear what she was saying.

"I just... I just..." Brienne had begun, stumbling over her words. "I just need to talk about Jaime."

He had held his breath, suspended in terror, as Sansa made the right noises on the other end of the phone.

"He won't talk to me, San," Brienne had said, and Jaime could tell from her tone that she was on the edge of tears. "I can tell something is wrong, but he won't open up... I know he's had a lot to deal with since the accident... but I wish he wouldn't push me away. I'm here for him, as much as he needs. Always. Always and forever. I just... I just miss him so much. I wish he would talk to me about how much losing his hand has hurt him, because I would listen... of course I would, but ever since he got back from the hospital, he's pushed me away. I wish he would just let me in."

Jaime had closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the emotional gut punch she had just administered. Reeling, a part of him had wanted to march into the room and tell her everything; about his family, the accident, and the fact that he was so, so underserving of all the love that she was offering him that it was a mistake... everything they had was _a mistake._ Another part knew he was too selfish for that. Jaime wanted to cling onto Brienne's love, like a dragon hoarding gold, even though he had obtained it through illicit means.

Turning away from her pain and her tears, Jaime had gone upstairs, wanting to retreat inside himself so he did not have to look at what he did to her. Brienne deserved so much better than him and his past. She deserved someone who could love her without hurting her, because she was the best person he had ever known.

When Brienne finally came to bed and climbed in beside him, Jaime had pretended to be asleep, so offered no resistance when she had snuggled up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. It had been difficult not to melt.

"Love you," she had whispered, her words a kiss.

He had wanted to say it back.

He had not said it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think of this little angst fest.


	2. II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne arrive in Cornwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to everyone who is reading this and enjoys the Run, Fat Knight, Run universe. Here is some smut!

"Jaime, will you take the grey suitcase into the cottage? I'll take the larger one."

He agreed, even though he could tell that Brienne was taking the bigger one to be _helpful,_ inconveniencing herself in the process. It was her usual approach. Even since the accident, Brienne had danced around him, softening every blow headed in his direction with soothing words or by using her body as a physical shield. Carrying the suitcase was just one small way she could protect him from the hurt of the world.

They had to run to the front door of the cottage because it was just starting to rain, and by the time they were inside the heavens had cracked open like a nut and they found themselves in the eye of a storm. Once they were safely inside, protected from the rain lashing at the windows, Brienne laughed - uninhibited - in the way she had begun to do when she became more comfortable in their relationship.

"What are you doing?" asked Jaime as he put the suitcase down. "What is so funny?"

Brienne's smile did not dim, even though the tone of Jaime's voice told her he was not sharing in the joke. "My Dad said we'd be able to enjoy some good weather and pleasant beaches while we are here. It seems he didn't know what he was talking about."

Not understanding why she looked so happy, Jaime tilted his head in confusion. "But if it's raining, we can't do that. Do you want to go home?"

"No!" said Brienne, her expression faltering. Abandoning the suitcase, she took a few quick strides across the room, not stopping until she was close enough to pull him into her arms. His chin bumped against her shoulder as she held him tight. "Of course I don't want to go home. I want to do what we came here to do."

"And what is that?"

She pulled away slightly, so she could look into his eyes.

"Spend time together of course." Brienne pressed a quick kiss to his lips, holding his head in her hands as she did so. "So why don't you go and have a bath and then we can think about dinner? It has been a long drive."

Unable to say no to her when she was smiling at him so sweetly, Jaime had surrendered with a quick nod.

* * *

After Jaime had his bath, he towel-dried himself and changed into a comfortable t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. He was hoping Brienne would let him go to bed early - if only to avoid the gnawing guilty ache at the pit of his stomach - but he was to be disappointed. On emerging into the cottage's open plan kitchen-lounge, he discovered that Brienne had dimmed the light, lit a few candles, and was sitting on the sofa wearing the pale blue dress she knew _did_ things to him, her hair falling to her shoulders.

"I see you've dressed up for date night," she said teasingly, waving her hand at his casual attire.

"I didn't realise this _was_ a date night."

Her smile darkened slightly. "How come? We've driven all the way down to Cornwall to stay in this rain-soaked little cottage... just the two of us. You must have realised that I was going to take every chance I had to ravish you."

Jaime laughed softly, letting it reverberate in his mouth. It shocked him how forward Brienne could sometimes be, especially when he remembered how nervous she had been their first time. It was as if the tables had finally turned; as she was marching out into the sun, embracing what they had, he was retreating back into his shell lest she discover that it was all his fault... all his fault...

"You have every chance to ravish me when we're at home, wench. Why now?"

In lieu of an immediate response, Brienne held her hand out, palm. There was something pleading in her eyes that he knew he would never be able to resist, cajoling, calm, and constant. "Because here it can feel special," she said, her blue eyes containing the world. "Come on! Help me pick the takeaway."

They ordered a Chinese and watched a movie, Brienne curling up beside Jaime and resting her head on his shoulder. It felt so nice to have her close - close and _his_ \- but every time he got too comfortable due to her sweet, sensual scent, or the gentle feel of her hand pressed at the centre of her chest, or the soft feel of her body against his, the guilt would come bubbling to the surface. Aerys had tried to kill Jaime because he was a Lannister and Brienne had been hurt because of it. It was an inescapable, incontrovertible truth. And yet Jaime could not stop drawing little hearts on the exposed skin of her neck or kissing her every time she turned to look at him, because she was sweet and adorable, and he loved her so much.

 _I'm so greedy,_ he thought, when Brienne finally ended the teasing touches they were sharing to slip her hand under the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms, playing with the soft skin just above his groin.

 _I'm so greedy,_ he thought again, as she began to rub his half-hard cock over his boxers.

 _I'm so greedy and I don't deserve her,_ he thought finally, the floodgates of his guilt bursting open, as Brienne brought her lips to his ear in order to whisper sinful things.

"I want you to fuck me," she purred, her fingers teasingly tracing the outline of his dick over his boxers in such a way that Jaime found himself shivering. "I want you to take me into our bedroom, throw me down on the bed, and fuck me, nice and rough."

Although he wanted it more than anything, Jaime found himself pulling away. Self-inflicted wounds were somehow cathartic.

"But we haven't finished the prawn crackers..."

"I don't _care_ about the prawn crackers." Her voice was firm, with the slightest hint of irritation. "I care about you, about _us_. And we haven't had much opportunity to be together _physically_ recently, so I want to take this opportunity while we have it. I want you inside me."

Even as her expression grew soft, Jaime tried to get up. "Brienne, I—"

He never got to finish his sentence as, less than a heartbeat later, Brienne was kissing him. Her hands jumped to his head and she ran her finger through his hair, separating his short curls into waves. Overwhelmed by her - by her strength and her gentleness and her _everything_ \- Jaime opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. It was bliss. Moaning softly as she pressed her body against his, Jaime pulled her more tightly against him, allowing him to feel her erect nipples rubbing against his chest through their clothes. His cock twitched in anticipation.

"Jaime," Brienne whispered when she came up for air. "Do you want to have sex with me tonight?"

With his tongue tied by her kisses, Jaime could only nod. His bashful silence caused Brienne to smile, then press her hands her hands against his chest, pulling at his t-shirt in such a way that it made Jaime understand how desperately she wanted to see him naked.

"Brienne, I..."

"And would it help if I took charge?" she asked, only the subtle tilt of her head indicating her tentativeness. "Would you let me look after you?"

 _Let Brienne look after me,_ thought Jaime derisively, _as if she doesn't do that every moment of every day already._

He swallowed, moistening his mouth, before picking his words carefully. "I would _love_ you to take charge."

Brienne blushed deeply. As the beginning of their relationship had included much coaxing on Jaime's part, she only occasionally got the chance to be the more dominant one. Nevertheless, by the excited look in her eye, Jaime could tell that Brienne was fired up at the thought. 

"Okay," she replied, finally letting go of him. "Then why don't you go into our bedroom, take off all your clothes, and lie down on the bed. I'll join you in a moment."

"Why aren't you coming with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "I thought you wanted to fuck me?"

At his question, Brienne gave him a smile so lusty it was almost uncharacteristic.

"I do... but I want to build the anticipation first."

Knowing there was nothing more he could do but obey her, Jaime grinned at her one last time before departing for the bedroom, barely noticing they had not finished their takeaway.

Humming with excitement, the moment Jaime found himself in front of the large mirror that stretched across the wardrobe in the bedroom, he began to disrobe. He started with his prosthetic hand. It was an ugly, cumbersome, uncomfortable limb, but Jaime forced himself to wear it. Most days, he needed to convince Brienne that he was _fine_ and was slowly reconciling himself to the loss of his right hand, and that meant he had to suffer through the prosthetic. Anyway, it was better than looking at his stump, which was a tattered reminder of that car crash, and how he had failed and made Brienne suffer. It was the absence of his hand that caught his eye in the mirror, and the absence of his hand that made Jaime's heart fall.

 _What am I doing?_ he thought staring down at his non-existent hand, trying not to look back towards the door behind which he knew Brienne was waiting. _She could do so much better than me, she could..._

"I thought I told you that I wanted you naked."

Jaime nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Brienne's voice, spinning around to look at her. She had rid herself of her dress and was now only wearing a matching silk bra and thong. The uniformity of the choice suddenly alerted Jaime to the fact that Brienne had been preparing to undress in front of him all day, while he had desperately been trying to hold back the tide.

However, it was not an expression of want or excitement that lit up her face, but one of confusion.

"Jaime, are you alright?"

Shit. Perhaps his guilt was evident on his face.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, stepping away from her. "It's just..."

"What?"

He sighed. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not." Her expression grew firm as she stepped forward and took his hand. "I know you well, Jaime. You've been distant for weeks."

"I haven't!"

She gave him a small smile. "You have, my love. And it's okay. It's..."

"It's not okay. I should be more open with you, I should..."

Brienne silenced him before he could start his self-pitying soliloquy by leading him to the bed and making him sit. While he perched on the edge of the bed, gazing at his imperfect reflection in the mirror, Brienne came and sat behind him, wrapping him in her arms as her freckly thighs locked tightly around his own. She put her head on his shoulder and met his gaze in the glass.

"You can talk to me you know."

"I know."

"Do you?"

Jaime's heart felt heavy in his chest. "Yes. It's just... ever since the accident..."

"What?"

There was a hint of desperation in expectant Brienne's gaze as they hovered on the edge of truth, dangerously close to the end of the line. He had known that she would corner him if he came down to Cornwall, that she would find some way to prize out the truth about his involvement in the accident that had nearly killed her.

Yet this close to the truth, Jaime found he could only tell her a lie.

"I'm fine, Brienne. I promise."

"Jaime..." she said warningly.

"I promise I am, honest." He held up his stump and Brienne broke their shared gaze to look at it. "It's just... I worry... how could you ever? Why would you want—?"

Once again, she did not let him finish. Instead, she grasped his stump with both hands and pulled it close to his chest, caressing it as she placed butterfly kisses at the corner of his mouth.

"God, _no_. I love you, Jaime. I want you. I need you."

"But—"

"But nothing," she insisted, her eyes bright. "You said you would let me look after you... so let me. I'll make you feel good - _loved_ \- I promise."

"But I—"

There were no more words as Brienne turned Jaime's face towards hers, so she could turn the butterfly kisses into full, deep kisses that ricocheted right down to his cock. As Brienne began to pull at his t-shirt - insistent that he should take it off - her thighs tightened around him, holding him in place. It made him realise that her dominance was being expressed in her physicality more than in her words.

"Jaime," she breathed as she reached down between his legs to pull his cock from his trousers. He could not help but gasp when she begun to stroke him, conscious that she was putting his pleasure front and centre. " _Jaime._ "

She brought her lips close enough to his for a kiss but refused to oblige him, instead choosing to play with the limits of intimacy. Close but so far away, Brienne just gazed into his eyes as she swiped her thumb over the head of his cock, then wiped the bead of precome down his rapidly hardening shaft.

Leaning into her, relishing the solid, supportive weight of her behind him, Jaime tried to concentrate on not coming like a teenage boy touching a girl for the first time as Brienne toyed with him.

"I adore you," she breathed into his ear, hot and low and full of affection. "My Jaime, _my_ Jaime."

"Brienne, I..."

"You drive me wild when you touch me. You make me _ache._ "

Unable to control himself, Jaime whimpered as she stroked him into a frenzy, her hand sliding up and down his slick shaft. He reached back towards her, grasping her hip with his hand, as his stomach muscles started to clench and relax at the roiling pleasure caused by her furious assault on his cock.

"Come for me," she said, halfway between a request and a command. "Come for me, Jaime, please. I want to see, I want..."

It was impossible to disobey her. Before Brienne even had the time to tell him what she wanted, Jaime was coming over her hand, his seed pearly white as he moaned into her cheek, his pleasure rocketing him to a place where he momentarily forgot about his own limitations and inability to be of any use to her. Instead, as he came down from his high, Jaime just basked in the warmth of Brienne's body and her tender closeness, feeling blessed and lucky to have someone so wonderful who cared about him.

It took him a few moments to come down from his high, but when he did, Jaime saw another sight that almost overwhelmed him. Gazing at her, awed, he watched as she lifted Brienne hand to her mouth and licked it clean of his come. As she went about her task, she did not take her eyes from him for a moment, and his heart to started doing somersaults in his chest. How did she have the ability to make something so dirty seem so pure?

"I love you, Jaime," she murmured once she had finished, reaching down to tuck him back into his shorts before kissing him on the cheek. "I need you to know that." Her expression turned doubtful. "You _do_ know that, don't you?"

He nodded as she wrapped her arms - big and strong - around him. The naked tenderness of the gesture made him want to cry.

"Of course I do."

"Good," she smiled. "Then you must know that your hand does not change the way I feel about you... not in the slightest. Not even the tiniest bit."

"But I can't even satisfy—"

She kissed him, silencing him in an instance. When she pulled away, there was a reproachful look in her eye. "Don't even think about saying whatever the hell you were just about to say. You satisfy me plenty. Watching you get off is... is... _hot._ " Jaime stared at her as she fought through her embarrassment at speaking so plainly, her cheeks growing redder and redder with every word. "I love it when we fuck. I love it when you make me come, however you make me come. I love _you._ I am still so attracted to you, I'll always be attracted to you.... never doubt it."

In spite of her words, he was still full of doubt. Jaime shook his head, finding it difficult to believe. "You are?"

" _Yes_." Smiling softly, Brienne brought one hand to his cheek in order to pull him closer to her, so she could rain down kisses on his face unimpeded. "That's why I wanted to come away this weekend. Ever since your accident, there has been so little opportunity for us to be together physically _._ I totally understand why - you've been healing - but I wanted to give you the space to feel comfortable to be that way with me again... to be close to me again. "

As she stroked his cheek, Jaime noticed that Brienne's eyes had become a little watery, and the sight of her on the verge of tears nearly broke his heart. She was the best thing in his life and in his self-indulgent pity, he had pushed her away, and forced her to drag him all the way to Cornwall to make him see sense.

 _God, I don't deserve her,_ he thought.

The only thing he could do was push her back onto the bed and climb on top of her, kissing her and kissing until she was breathless, like they were running out of time. As he pinned one of her arms above her head, their fingers intertwined, Brienne let out a submissive little moan into his mouth, so Jaime pressed his weight down on her more firmly, wanting her to feel him.

"Do you like that?" he asked, jutting his hips into hers, his voice breathy.

"Yes, Jaime, I do," she replied. "More. Please."

He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose, her lips, her jaw, and her exposed throat, moving down her irritatingly clothed body while she moaned and kept saying his name, turning it into a prayer.

"What do you want me to do to you?" he asked, gazing up at her desperately. "What do you need from me?"

Up until that moment, Brienne had been lost to her desire; blushing and beautiful. However, the second he uttered that word - _need_ \- her whole demeanour changed. Her eyes snapped open, and she lifted a hand to his face, cupping his chin gently in her palm. He could not resisting tilting his head to kiss it.

"I love you with your clothes on too, Jaime, so even if you didn't want to have sex tonight... I would understand, I would..."

Launching himself upwards, he silenced her with a kiss.

If she wanted to have sex tonight, he would.

He would give her anything she wanted, especially if it helped push away his guilt for a few short hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
